Cranium
by thelonelylovechild
Summary: It seemed death had a sense of humor. SI-as-fem!Skull because I can't keep my ideas to myself! Eventual (like waaay down the line) Skull/Reborn.
1. Меня зовут?

**Disclaimer: I don't own KHR.**

_This stuff! -_ **Russian.**

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><p>Cherep Mikhailov was considered a very strange child for two very distinct reasons.<p>

Starting with the most obvious it was common knowledge that Cherep was aware and anyone who happened to chance peek into her clear purple eyes could see that. From the moment she had first blinked it was broadcasted by the way her glances would follow the maids around the room and by the tiny furrow of her brow as she seemed to concentrate.

Even shy of one year and she had yet to speak they had little doubt it would be just as advanced as her behavior.

If her caretakers were honest they would smile in their little mysterious way and tell you the little baby unnerved them in the best and worst of ways.

Though she wasn't _normal_ Cherep wasn't viewed as _abnormal_. To them she was just a "gifted" child, just as her father and his father's father were. No matter if her gaze seemed a bit too old in her young face or if there seemed to be a knowledge lurking in their depths, it was just something that ran within the family lines.

Often as a little joke among themselves they would refer to her as an old soul with a giggle and they were half right in that speculation.

Now if they had called her an _used_ soul it might have been more accurate.

You see before Cherep was Cherep she had been June. A tiny French girl who had won a scholarship to the Americas and had met her untimely demise aboard the soon to crash plan.

June with her sandy hair, dark brown eyes, and tanned skin had transformed into Cherep with her amethyst glare, like colored tresses, and pale face.

It had been a shock like no other when she had woke up to hushed Russian and a tiny new body.

And after four years of occupying a new sack of flesh Cherep had firmly instituted herself into her new life by the iron grasp of her fingertips.

Sitting in her bed she pitched her gaze up, caught the dark eyes of the maid that had entered the room, and looked back down when she caught her flinch.

This one was new and Cherep knew her direct stare was discerning at best and frightening at its worst. Not many people were used to dealing with a child who held at least twenty-two years bared in her eyes.

It was kind of frustrating, especially when she found herself hungry in the middle of the night and the younger maids who oversaw the kitchens were unable to muster up the courage to say more than three words to her. Cherep found herself becoming intimately familiar with the layout of the pantries after the second month of late night perusing.

"_Khozyayka*_, your father has requested your presence at the table." The girl muttered, eyeing the ground before her with interest. "I am here to escort you." Nothing more was said and Cherep assumed she had reached the end of her spiel.

Sliding off of her bed she set the book that was resting on her lap in the space she had been occupying and made her way into the hall with the new help trailing quietly behind her.

Both of them staunchly ignoring the other as best as they can the only thing that could be heard was the echoing sound of the footsteps.

Upon reaching the dining hall the two guards standing before the doors pulled them open and with a fortifying breathe Cherep entered the room and strode over to her seat just to the left of her father's chair.

Meeting similar colored eyes peering out of a handsome face framed by loose bright red hair she inclined her head respectfully.

"Evening _otets*_." She murmured before turning to face forward, making sure to keep an ear open for the conversation flowing around her as the man known as Sasha Mikhailov started his meeting.

Allowing her gaze to roam around at the stone cold and smirking faces that surrounded the table Cherep heard one word being whispered from the deepest recesses of her mind and curl sharply around her thoughts with a hiss.

_Mafia_.

Dark glances traded with a hint of gun powder and Cherep could see everything.

_These people around her were Mafia._

Purple flickered down the simple crested ring attached to her index and she rubbed a finger over it, feeling the jewel scrap faintly over her skin.

_And so was she._

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><p><strong>Well here it is after a lot of deliberation. This is more of an entry prologue kind of thing hence why it's so short. Cherep is Skull in Russian. I decided to give Skull a more solid background, we literally know nothing about this guy. Skull here knows she's in the Mafia but that's all she knows. ○~○.<strong>

** Also my end game is Skull/Reborn so be warned okay?**

**Please review.**

**The first * means mistress and the second * means father.**

**And to those wondering how many stories I'll publish before I stop the answer is twenty because that's when I run out of images that the image thing can hold and I'd prefer it if my stories had a cover.**


	2. Похищенный

**Disclaimer: I don't own KHR.**

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><p>When Cherep had discovered where exactly in the universes she had been born into, someone targeted her for assassination.<p>

Or rather someone used her as bait to try to assassinate her father.

Laying on the ground with her left shoulder digging into the concrete Cherep stared wide-eyed at the opposite wall as her mind raced a mile per minute.

She had been prepped for situations like these but now that it was here everything was different.

Twisting her wrists in an attempt to loosen the rope she closed her eyes and grimaced.

She should have known better than to drink something that wasn't given to her by Frescha.

She should have known that her maids had been acting stranger than usual.

She should have known she wouldn't remain untouched for long while running with the mafia.

But damn had they been bold in her abduction.

Snatching her right from underneath the infamous Russian boss' nose must be quite the feat.

Giving up on getting the binding off for the moment she instead peered around, trying to hear the faint whir of a hidden camera and heard nothing so with a practiced motion she swept her bound arms underneath her legs and brought them to rest at her front.

Rubbing her tongue at the false patch of skin covering a section within her mouth it wasn't long before she could taste metal.

Carefully maneuvering the tiny piece of a blade to rest between her teeth she began her delicate work of sawing off the restraints.

She wasn't aware of how much time had gone by but according to the burning muscles in her jaw and the incisions in the rope it had been awhile.

Taking a deep breath she yanked hard on the rope and was equal parts relieved and victorious when it snapped.

Shifting to her knees she rubbed at the darkening bruises on her wrists and hissed at the sharp tinges of pain.

Staring at the door she worried her lip, momentarily catching the green eyes of the fellow prisoner across the way before looking down at the floor.

Usually at this point of the plan she would pull out her hidden weapon and blast her way out of here but sadly she was short a gun.

But luckily she did have a 2 inch thick blade inserted into her right boot. Pulling her foot into her lap she felt around the sole of her shoe until she felt a sharp prick and she took her razor and shaved off the false bottom.

Pulling the knife out she held it in her hand before tearing off a piece of her shirt to make a hilt for it, her father's voice a running commentary on how to do it correctly.

Armed but not in a way that would prove to be the most efficient Cherep heard the sound of approaching footsteps and laid back down, bringing the shredded ropes to hide underneath her body before clasping her hands behind her back.

The steps stopped before her cell and a harsh tsking sound was made before the door opened and Cherep struggled to maintain her breathing and keep her body from tensing.

A single tip of a foot nudged her stomach and she moved with the movement, rocking back slightly.

"Stupid girl, gave the Mikhailov brat too much narcotic." A sneering voice said as a drop of sweat dripped down her neck. "I told that _shlyukha_* to measure but does she listen? No and I've been stuck watching her for the past hours."

Abruptly she could feel her grip on the hidden knife spasm with the need to do something but she waited, laid there for her perfect chance.

And come it did, as soon as the man kneeled down and pulled out a syringe Cherep struck, driving the tip of the blade deep into the base of his skull with a quiet squish.

Feeling her stomach lurch as droplets of red stained her skin she swallowed down her bile and breathed harshly out her nose.

_Very good moy rebenok_*, she could almost hear her father say, _but you must do better if you want to_ _survive_.

Running her hands over the limp body she took the keys snagged on his belt, checked the clip of the gun before unlocking the safety, and pulled the blade out of his neck wiping it off on his shirt.

_Now move_.

And so she did, making sure to lock the door behind her.

The man said he had been watching her so it was safe to assume he had been manning the cameras but not well enough to have seen her escaping her bindings. They obviously thought low of her.

_Underestimation will be your greatest weapon_. Her father chuckled within her mind. _Use it wisely_ _doch' moya_*.

Nodding to the words she could hear Cherep held the gun at the ready trying to ignore the fact that she hadn't been trained in pistol combat yet and gritted her teeth.

Spying the other inmates who were watching her with an intent only found in men of the mafia Cherep suddenly had an idea.

Clearing her throat she squared her shoulders.

"My name is Cherep Mikhailov, how about all of us make a deal?"

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><p>Unlocking all the doors had been easy enough the ruckus all of these men and women provided was the best cover for her to escape.<p>

Racing down a hall she was momentarily distracted by a purple colored flame(?) being hurled around before she passed by that corridor in her haste.

Shaking her head - because she didn't have time to be worried about every little thing she saw going on in enemy territory - Cherep steeled herself before firing off three bullets into the chest of the man bearing the crest of an eagle.

The same eagle the man she had stabbed was adorned with.

Unsure of the layout but generally following the way none of the inmates took - they were on a quest for revenge not escape - Cherep found herself in a throne room and immediately moved to leave only to be stopped by the presence of man guarding the door.

Lifting the gun without hesitation she clicked it three times, only to gape in fear and disbelief because the clip was empty.

Keeping the man in her sights Cherep began to back up and obviously because her luck couldn't suck anymore than it did now she ended up backing into another person.

Who dug there fingers harshly into her shoulder and with a simple practiced motion she took the blade from her side and twisted it into their thigh but not once did they let go.

Hearing a pained growl from behind her suddenly there was a stinging in her cheek and blood in her mouth.

"Fucking little bitch!" The woman cursed, tossing Cherep away to grab at her leg and she looked up, recognizing the girl as the maid who had poisoned her. "I thought someone checked her!"

Chuckling the man near the door smirked. "There has been a prison break she could have picked up that shiv anywhere."

Hissing the white haired woman clenched her fingers and bared her teeth. "Don't remind me of the mess I'll have to clean up Lopter, it only makes me want to kill you even more."

"Well isn't that news to me?" Lopter said on a shrug. "Now either knock out the Mikhailov brat or shut up, she's obviously smarter than she seems."

Choosing not to resist she felt the edge of a needle jab into her skin and within seconds she was slouching over and all she knew was darkness.

"Oi, did you at least measure it this time?"

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><p>Waking up to the sight of her father covered in purple fire was the biggest shock of the century but even so she without hesitation flung herself into his arms and squeezed.<p>

"_Otets_." She murmured into the collar of his shirt as he ran his fingers through her tangled hair and her father hummed, disentangling her from his person enough so that he could look at her now blackened wrists.

Glancing upwards he spied to darkening bruise on her cheek and his gaze narrowed minutely.

"Which one?" He asked with a calm air and Cherep let her eyes wander over to the traitorous maid who looked like death himself had come to meet her.

"Her."

And suddenly there was a heavy pressure being exerted around the room and her father snapped his fingers, drawing a man to his side that she hadn't noticed was in the room.

"Take her away." Was all he said before the gathering of flames - so much like clouds - started to burn and gather around the ring on her father's hand.

She was already in the world of the mafia, why not add everyone's dying will too?!

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><p>Staring at the Sig Sauer her tutor had placed into her hands Cherep felt a familiar excitement course through her veins.<p>

It was a gun and it was beautiful.

It was moments like these she could almost feel like she was June again.

The design was sleek and furnished, and her eyes took in every detail.

She wouldn't go as far to say that she was a weapon's expert - considering it had merely been a hobby - but she knew her stuff.

It was too bad she had never actually gotten around to firing a gun before today but by the look on her father's face it looked like she'd be learning soon.

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><p><strong>So she figured out that she's in KHR but not necessarily that she's Skull. That revelation comes next (not next chapter though).<strong>

**Please review.**

**First *whore, second *my child, third *daughter mine.**


	3. Курите?

**Disclaimer: I don't own KHR. Though I do own my OC's.**

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><p>The next thing her father had done in aid to her blossoming skills was sign her up for the ballet and in Russia it was no joke.<p>

It was all about precision and agility, it was highly praised and she was expected to do well. Beyond well really. She was supposed to be perfection in all aspects of the dance.

Her teacher was an elegant woman with pale hair wrapped up into a bun, sharp accessing blue eyes, and a body toned from years of professional ballet and assassinating targets part-time.

Katerina Patralov was a woman to be feared and everyone knew it.

The first few lessons they spent going over the basics and the classics. Rigorous stretching and balance techniques were her current focus as of now and with its progression little beaming pieces of June fell through.

The little sunny haired arts majors who played way too many instruments and danced too many styles felt content within her mafia lifestyle for the first time. Every turn, every twist, every time she went to practice with Katerina she felt like her heart was going to burst through her chest with happiness regardless of how she wasn't able to properly showcase her skills in her current body.

Between her ballet, weapons, and language tutoring - in which her teachers were pleased at her progress in English and French - Cherep had little time to take notice of the happenings around the household but once she did it came in the form of a green eyed boy dressed in a butler's uniform standing by her father's side.

And she would be lying if she said she didn't know that gaze.

Flashes to the prison filtered into her mind as she made sure to keep her expression decidedly blank.

"Otets." She greeted with a nod and a bow before she went to stand by his side at his beckon.

"This is Katja," Her father introduced with a sweep of his hand. "and he is now yours to do with what you wish."

All at once the boy dropped to his knee and bowed his head to her muttering my lady under his breath.

"You have saved him from the death at the prison and now he has devoted his remaining life to you," her father said. "Without you he would be nothing so now it is up to you to make him into something."

Cherep knew the rules of the mafia and she knew them well, denying this man would bring nothing good so she did as she was expected to.

"I will take him." She said aloud with considering eyes. "And he will be mine."

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><p>Katja Jaxr was 10 years old, a previous member of the recently killed Jaxr family who specialized in weaponry, and would be a good addition into the family. She had made the right decision in keeping him. With his knowledge he would very useful, it didn't pay to have broken tools.<p>

Cherep decided to make him her body guard in the end after a lot of debating with herself. She had seen his skills during the break out and he was nothing to sniff at. He was quick, he was fierce but he was also rough around the edges. Though maybe he would work that put by himself with experience.

But nevertheless she would have him trained by her father's elite. She didn't want him to die because of a foolhardy mistake.

Staring up into the steel eyes of Ilya Serg, one of her father's personal guard she smiled.

"Morning Uncle Ilya." She greeted prettily, purple eyes sparkling but before she could give her proposition he gave her a smirk.

"I'll train your little boy printsessa*." He told her, brushing his long brown hair from his face before his gaze turned razor and cut over to the blue haired boy by her side. "After all if he fails and you get hurt, I'd be a shame to have to kill such potential."

The sharp sting of killing intent spiked and Katja bowed has his head in a silent promise.

Sighing the tall lean man stood and stretched. "Well we don't have all day boy, come on. Let's break you in."

Watching the two of them exit the room Cherep gave a small grin. He'd be in good hands overall, they were the best of the best after all. Raising her hand she gave a small wave at their retreating backs.

And that was the last thing she managed to do before her world exploded into pink.

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><p><em>"You have three seconds to explain what the hell happened to the idiot lackey and why he's a child," A dark sinuous voice said boredly. "Or I'll blow the inside of your head out Bovino, your choice."<em>

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><p><strong>*princess<strong>

**So can anyone guess what exactly happened? And who wasn't surprised at the boy from the jail coming back into the story? What about Ilya? What do you think is going to happen next chapter?**

**Well anyways sorry for taking forever to update but here I am! Sorry it's short I decided to leave it here for maximum effect. Excuse any errors, it's not beta'd yet.**

**Also go check out my new Hunter x Hunter SI fanfiction! It'd mean alot! ^^**

**Please review!**


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